Sin Tonight
by MexicAmerichick6
Summary: (Rush Hour AU.) Agents Atlin and Plisetsky are having a hard time with a gunman they've captured, so they get help from someone that they least expect and hope to get answers quick!


_Um. Okay. I was watching 'Rush Hour 3' when I thought of this scene in my head; you have got to love Chris Tucker's humor! XDD_

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All Agents Altin and Plisetsky wanted to do was make sure that the ambassador was okay, as they were his bodyguards. However, as soon as they entered the hospital that Friday evening when Agent Plisetsky wanted to go to the Apple store to get his phone fixed, they knew something was odd. Since the ambassador was in the hospital, there would be several cops and guards around, but there was nobody, not even a few doctors.

How come?

That question was wondered by Agent Plisetsky, as Agent Altin looked through the window, where he saw a few white Cadillacs at the front entrance.

"Oh damn…" Agent Altin said, looking right down.

Agent Plisetsky groaned. "Oh god, don't these guys ever take a break?"

Several men with guns came into the hospital, ready to kill the ambassador and anyone that got in their way. There were stopped by a gurney that held the ambassador, but Agent Plisetsky was underneath, and poked his gun under one gunman's butt, stating, "Let's hope you don't wear a speedo to the beach!"

It caused Agent Altin to appear and remove the gunmen's arms away, but before he could ask who sent them, more gunmen appeared, making Agent Plisetsky swear under his breath.

The men fired, causing the agents to divide as they pulled out their own guns and fired. It was not an easy battle, Agent Altin was almost shot in the head and chest and Agent Plisetsky chucked someone out the window, but they were able to capture one man with purple eyes.

"Who sent the low-life that's you? ANSWER ME, FOOL!" Agent Plisetsky demanded.

"Dice il bambino con i capelli stupidi!" the odd man cried, as Agent Plisetsky held onto his shirt with his gun against his face.

Agent Plisetsky turned to his partner, "What the hell's he saying?"

Agent Altin shook his head, saying, "Italian, but I can't speak it."

Agent Plisetsky shook head, swearing. It was around the same time the nurse appeared, asking, "What's happening?"

Agent Altin said to her, "Apparently, we will need some time with this man. Can you find someone who speaks Italian?" he asked.

The young woman nodded, "Why yes,"

"Thank you," Agent Altin nodded.

(0)(0)(0)

The strange man had his hands bound behind his back, looking at the agents with extreme contempt, especially at Agent Plisetsky. The younger agent growled like a fussy cat, turning to Agent Altin.

"I'm telling you, Beka, this is the same fool that smashed my phone while we're out on the streets!" he said to him.

"Now is not the time for that, nonsense," Agent Altin said. "We must find answers soon."

The door to the morgue opened, revealing the nurse and a strange man with a beard and in a cassock.

"Gentlemen, this is Father Nekola," she said, introducing them to the man she came in with. "He is from the chapel here in the hospital, and he speaks fluent Italian." She said.

"Good evening," Father Nekola greeted, smiling as he waved at them as the nurse left. Agent Altin greeted him back as well, "Father Nekola, we appreciate you doing this for us." he said.

"My pleasure," Father Nekola said, as Agent Plisetsky stuck his whole tongue out as if he wanted to barf. The strange man on the other hand though, blanched. He had never seen any priest like this, especially with such blue eyes and so much hair on his face.

"Be nice!" Agent Altin nudged Agent Plisetsky's shoulder.

Agent Plisetsky groaned again, "Fine, good evening Father."

"Father Nekola, can you ask this man what his name is and who sent him?" Agent Altin said.

The said priest nodded, asking the Italian, "Come ti chiami e chi ti ha mandato qui?"

It seemed that the Italian didn't answer the question, spitting at the priest, "Michele. Questo è uno stupido errore, presto ti implorerai per la tua vita!" the man looked at Agent Plisetsky. "E tu puzzi di culo di gatto!"

"He said that this is a foolish mistake, and you'll be begging for your life," said Father Nekola to the agents, and then he snorted, blushing as he covered his mouth like a giddy girl. "My, my, someone's a naughty boy!"

It completely took the agents by surprise, as Michele was watching him. Yes, he spoke English, but he'd rather speak in native tongue just so he could mess with the agents.

"What did he say, Father?" Agent Altin asked. "Please we must know; many lives are on the line right now."

"Well, said that this young man here smells like the backend of a feline." Father Nekola answered, referring to Agent Plisetsky.

"What?" the younger agent said in response, feeling his blood boil. He gritted his teeth, telling Father Nekola, "Father, you tell this fu—"

Agent Altin stopped him, "Agent Plisetsky, please, he's a priest." placing his hand on his shoulder.

Agent Plisetsky folded his arms. "Fine, Father, tell this effer that I will shoot his a word up so hard he'll have to pick which a hole to s word out of!"

"Sparerò a luiuna parola così forte che dovrà scegliere da quale buca uscire." Father Nekola said to Michele.

The Italian chuckled, his smile appearing ear to ear. "Mi hai sparato? Ottiene l'odore del suo gatto da suo nonno!"

Father Nekola put his hand on his chest, "Oh my… apparently this child has sin written all over him!"

Agent Plisetsky raised a brow, curious about what he said.

"What did he say?"

"Well, he sort of mentioned your grandfather." The priest answered.

"Well tell him his grandparents are A-cracks, his mom is an A-crack, and his sister is a-" Agent Plisetsky was cut off by Agent Altin.

"Okay, that's enough!" Agent Altin said. "What did we say about berating anyone's female relatives?"

Agent Plisetsky grumbled, "That it's mean and not very gentleman-like," looking almost as pissed about his phone being cracked.

"Good boy." Agent Altin patted his blonde hair.

"Dì alla biondina che il suo ragazzo è caldo come una guerriglia!" Michele screamed.

"Did he say cat butt again?" Agent Plisetsky asked.

Father Nekola rubbed his chin. "Um no," he directed to Agent Altin, "He called this man something about a guerilla."

Agent Altin had a death look on his face; no one talked about him like that and got away with it.

"Father, tell this man that his mother will not have grandchildren and that his sister will never be an aunt!" Agent Altin demanded the priest.

Agent Plisetsky put his hands on his hips. He had a brow raised as if looking disappointed in the older agent. "Thought you said to not berate anyone's sister or mom."

"Yes, Plisetsky, but this is lighter than the one you concocted!" said the elder agent, as if they were an old married couple, and arguing like one too!

Father Nekola took a step forward, hoping to ease the tension between both of them as his job as a priest.

"Gentlemen, please, I have a dictionary in my office!" His lower body was looming over Michele's legs, as the Italian's eyes went large. He struggled against the bonds, wanting to get away from him. Michele whimpered like a little girl for dear life.

"Just call him an asshole!" Agent Plisetsky demanded like Agent Altin, as Father Nekola recoiled.

"Sei nella lista dei risultati ora, come quell'ambasciatore e le vostre famiglie!" Michele cried out.

Agent Plisetsky took two steps back, asking, "What did he say?"

"You're on the hit-list now like the ambassador and your families!" Father Nekola translated, gasping.

Growling even louder, Agent Plisetsky pulled out his semi-automated. He got on Michele's lap and pressed his gun against the man's forehead, telling the priest, "Turn around Father, because there will be a sin tonight!"

Father Nekola did as so, as Agent Altin grabbed the younger agent's shoulders but he was pushed back.

"Who sent you to kill the ambassador and where can we find them? Tell us now or else yo' hands and feet are going to yo' mama!" The younger agent threatened.

"What?" Father Nekola demanded, turning around to him.

"How else are we going to get intel from him?" Agent Plisetsky said.

"Well Father Giacometti was able to stop this one Thai thief with a lasso," Father Nekola answered. "Maybe you could get some information if you tie a rope around him!" he giggled.

Agent Altin did not have time for this nonsense. "Alright, Yura, enough!" He tried to take the gun out of his partner's hands, but it was no use, Yura did not want to let go.

"WHO?" The younger agent demanded, growing as angry as a tiger growling.

"JUST KILL ME FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" Michele demanded in his second tongue, sounding as if he was going to cry.

"Now, you wanna speak English!" Agent Plisetsky. Father Nekola began to recite a certain prayer in Czech, turning away from the violence that would soon unfold.

Agent Plisetsky pulled the trigger once, expecting to see blood everywhere, but nothing happened. Michele backed his head away, laughing right at him. Agent Plisetsky swatted his head and asked his partner. "Beka, there's no bullets here! I'm dying to slaughter someone here!"

"You sure you want this?" Agent Altin asked, pulling out the bullets.

"Um yes!" Agent Plisetsky stomped his foot, taking the bullets and shoving them in his gun.

The younger agent demanded for the last time, "You better tell me something quick!" pointing the gun at Michele's head.

"Not even Hell's gonna take you in!" he said, his blonde hair shaking around.

"Yura!" Agent Altin demanded, looking about terrified.

"No craps given!" Yura said to Michele. Father Nekola recited the prayer even louder, just scared for this young man's life. He had his hands clasped over the cross on his chest as if it were his life support.

"That's right, Father Nekola! You oughta call Jesus, because like I said, I'm about to sin real soon!" Agent Plisetsky told, looking like a madman.

"Aspettare!" Michele cried out.

"He said wait!" Father Nekola echoed, sounding completely terrified.

"Well?" Agent Plisetsky demanded as his knee was over Michele's legs, preparing to knee him just in case.

"300 Alamo Plaza…" Michele answered, feeling the sweat down his face.

Agent Plisetsky smiled, chuckling like a madman. "Got it…" he shoved his gun back into his pocket. Agent Altin sighed through his nose, rubbing it.

"Isn't that where the Alamo is?" Father Nekola questioned, looking at the agents.

"That's where we're gonna find that fool who sent this fool to shoot the Ambassador." Agent Plisetsky said as he was referring to Michele and throwing one piece of hair back.

Agent Altin smoothed out his shirt. "Alright, I believe our work here is completed. Coming, Agent Plisetsky?"

Agent Plisetsky blew out of a puff of air. "Yeah,"

Agent Altin walked out the door, thanking Father Nekola.

Agent Plisetsky walked past the priest, telling, "It was fun working with you, Father."

"Anytime, agents, anytime…" he said as Agent Plisetsky walked through the door to follow Agent Altin.

Michele was struggling with his bonds, lightly, feeling them grow red. He looked up to Father Nekola. "May I please go home?" he asked.

Father Nekola smiled, but rather evilly, "Why no, you are still filled with foulness, child." He said, walking behind him.

"What?" Michele turned to him, looking as if he had just lost all of his money in a casino. "Please, my sister needs me, and I got blood on my clothes as well!"

Father Nekola raised a brow. "Oh are you so sure?" he asked.

Michele nodded.

"Well, you may not still." Father Nekola began to push the chair out. He opened the door and pushed Michele to left, the opposite of where the two agents went down, to where the church is.

"We must cleanse you of your sin…" Father Nekola said, almost menacingly.

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 _Uh oh. Sadistic characters are fun to write!_

 _Everything that was said in Italian was used from WordHippo, not Google Translate. ^.^_

 _Please review, that stuff helps me a lot!_


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